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was she? Ah yes, they had come on a boat to Liverpool, everyone except Granda had felt sick, then Mammy had been married last
night. The man Mammy had married was very, very old, because a lot of his hair had gone. It was all very frightening. It would have been so much nicer if they could have stayed at home. Cathy
missed her own bed, her dog, her chicken and all the horses. Even living with Granda would have been better than Liverpool, though she had little love for her mother’s father. But she must
try to be a big girl, because Mammy had all to do for Shauna, who was not thriving.
    Although a pall of darkness hung in the air, Cathy sensed that this was morning. She kicked out at the other person, who was extremely knobbly and sharp. ‘Take your arm away,
please,’ she implored.
    Tildy rolled to one side, hit the floor with a none too quiet bump. ‘Jesus,’ she muttered angrily. ‘You’re worse than our Nicky, you are. No need to throw me across the
bloody room. After I looked after you, too.’
    Cathy sat up. ‘What are you doing here? And you shouldn’t be blaspheming. You shouldn’t say Jesus except when you’re praying, and you should bow your head when you say
it.’
    ‘I’ll say what I bloody want,’ replied Tildy smartly. ‘You’ve hurt me.’
    ‘Is this your bed?’
    ‘No, it’s yours. But even if it is your bed, you shouldn’t be kicking me out of it. I stayed with you, didn’t I? Mr Anthony Bell told me to look after you and your sister
– remember?’
    Cathy remembered some of it. Mammy had gone to sleep in a corner. The pigeons had been asleep, too. There had been loads of food called spiceballs and ribs, and she had eaten two slices of
something described as bunloaf. A man called Anthony had carried Cathy through the streets. ‘Did you carry my sister Shauna here?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes. I got in bed with her at first, but she’s a wriggler. So I climbed in with you.’ She shivered. There had been a fire in the corner of the bedroom, but that had gone out
hours earlier. ‘Let’s get dressed,’ she suggested. ‘And I’ll show you round Mr Bell’s shop. Our Charlie works here, you know. He’s me brother and
he’s a clever lad. He looks a bit funny, but he’s all right. Then our Nicky – that’s Monica – runs a stall on Paddy’s Market. She sells the stuff what gets left
over downstairs – stuff what’s not worth much. Me and our Cozzer help out after school, like, if she’s busy.’
    Cathy struggled into her clothes. She had often heard people saying that Galway was on the chilly side of Ireland, but this place was surely the coldest in the world. ‘I don’t like
Liverpool,’ she grumbled.
    ‘That’s all right,’ answered Tildy. ‘Liverpool might not like you. Me mam’s always saying that. They say funny things, don’t they?’
    On that score, Cathy was forced to agree. She nodded swiftly, then rubbed her numbed fingers together.
    They crept out onto the dark landing. Tildy, who seemed accustomed to the place, took a box of matches from a small table and lit a gas lamp. ‘There’s the new electric
downstairs,’ she informed her companion. Tildy pointed out the doors on the opposite wall. ‘Old Mrs Bell’s in there,’ she whispered. ‘You have to go through her room
for a bath. There’s a real bath with taps. I stop with old Mrs Bell sometimes when Mr Bell goes off fishing.’ She sniffed. ‘Me mam says fishermen are the most boring people in the
whole world. He is a bit boring.’
    Cathy, who was trying hard not to be even more scared, spoke up. ‘Your mammy says a lot of things.’
    ‘Well, she’s always right. Me dad says she’s always right.’
    ‘My mammy’s clever too.’
    ‘Good,’ beamed Tildy. ‘They’ll be fit for one another, then.’ She pointed out Mr Bell’s room, which was next to his mother’s, then gave her attention to
another pair of doors alongside the room in which Shauna still slept. ‘Used to be two